In Noble Pursuit
by Ceres The Unknown Angel
Summary: A collection of one-shots centred on Reach's favourite SPARTAN-III's, containing a whole manner of drabbles and bits and pieces as varied in genre and length as the team they're focused on. #2: Grunt's Birthday- Kat Logic: Kat and Noble Six have an interesting conversation in the field about the lowest of the Covenant low-the Grunt's, and their exploding heads.
1. 1: Introductions

**-From the Notebook of an Angel-**

**Hi guys!**

***drum roll please***

**Ceres here, proud to present my new project: IN NOBLE PURSUIT! **_**In Noble Pursuit**_** will be a collection of one-shots centred on Reach's favourite SPARTAN-III's: Noble Team! It will contain a whole manner of drabbles and although they aren't connected, they're all set in the same "world" (unless otherwise stated). Remember, any and all criticisms and comments are welcomed and appreciated, and most importantly, I hope you enjoy reading each one as much as I enjoy writing them.**

**In Noble Pursuit**

**#1: Introductions**

_As always, for Cillian_

_xXx_

SPARTAN-RACH-B312:

Have you ever felt as if you are falling?

Like, the rug of the whole world has been pulled out from under your feet and sent you falling out into space? All…all alone?

It could have been, for what I knew, days, weeks, months, years or maybe even seconds, before gradually I came back down to earth. I wanted to open my eyes, but they felt too heavy to budge. I groaned, my voice too hoarse to shout and my mind too groggy to make words. Slowly, far slower than I would have liked, I made myself wrench my eyelids open. I was aware of the fact that I had no idea where I was, and how I got there. I was in a narrow, pale-blue room that reeked of cheap disinfectant. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. The colour repulsed me more than the smell. Wires and tubes attached to my body fed into machines beside the bed. In the corner of the room sat a man dozing in a chair wearing black and yellow MJOLNIR power armour. His usually stern, serious features were arranged in a relaxed and peaceful expression.

And then, like a Warthog slamming into a Grunt, the memories returned.

_A violent explosion ripping through metal and human flesh-_

_Red, raw, burning, searing pain-_

"_No, no, NO!"-_

_Screaming, screaming, words in an incomprehensible language-_

_Rotary blades roaring, shuddering of a helicopter as it took off-_

_The pain, the pain, the pain please someone make it stop-_

"_Christ, what happened to her?" _

_I'm dying-_

"_Plasma grenade… Took the full force of it on her chest…"_

_I'M DYING-_

"_Oh my god she's-she's still burning!"_

_Blackness, the rug of the universe being ripped out from under me-_

I swallowed hard, and sat up. Steeling myself, I pulled the blankets off my body, and tried not to pass out at what was under the sheets. My entire upper-body was wrapped tight with bandages, as well as half of my right arm, the burned patches of skin that had escaped the bandages raw and purple. And it hurt. Oh my god, did it hurt.

Tentatively, I swung one leg and then the other over the bed and got shakily to my feet, rocking back on my heels as I tried to get my balance. Leaning heavily on my right leg, I took one painful step forward, then another. The heart-rate monitor hooked up to my right arm screeched a terrifying wail, waking the man in the corner of the room with a jolt. I pulled the monitor out with venom, and with it all the snake-like wires attached to the rest of me. If I was honest, the tiny needles that had been inserted underneath my skin frightened me far more than an entire battalion of Elites.

"Hey," he grumbled in a thick Hungarian accent "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out of here" I replied, my voice sounding weaker than I had hoped.

"Not yet," he said, a familiar smile stretching across his face. "I've made an appointment for you with the best doctor in the universe. I told her I would bring you to her when you woke up."

Jorge lifted me into a wheelchair, and pushed me through the sterile halls of the hospital. I suddenly recognised where I was. I was aboard the UNSC's "Archangel" Medical Facility. The Archangel was huge, from what I remembered from my last stay here at age 16. From out one of the huge panelled windows, I could see the blue planet of Reach below us. I hated hospitals. Hated them with a passion. They made my skin crawl. I needed to get out of here, now. Jorge caught the look of anxiety on my face, and took one hand off the handle of the wheelchair and rested it on my shoulder. "Nearly there, nearly there," he said.

"I'm fine," I said, forcing myself to take a few deep breaths to quell the panic within me.

He stopped before a door with the name HALSEY, CATHERINE E stencilled neatly onto its front. "And by the way, thank you for earlier," he said "I owe you one."

"Don't worry about it," I said, making a great effort to smile "We're even now."

It had been a long time since I'd seen Jorge, so long that when I saw him first, I took me a while to realize that he had not shrunk since our last meeting, I'd just grown. A lot.

"Hey, Gamma-One!" he cried, locking forearms with me in an embrace. "Christ, I feel old now. Last time I seen you, you were barely up to my knee!"

I laughed. He had not changed that much, apart from some tell-tale signs of age like the extra lines around his eyes and the greying at his temples. His eyes still held the fire that I remembered, and his smile was still as lively as it had been when he was nineteen. "It's really good to see you too, sir!" I said, snapping him a crisp salute with my right arm.

"So, Lieutenant, this seems to be your party," he said "What are we doing?"

"Two of my team-mates found a cache of Covenant weapons in a cave up in the mountains. They've been quiet, far too quiet these past few days, so Gamma-Two and Gamma-Three believe that they're planning saving them for a rainy day. That's not convenient for us. There's only a very small force guarding it, or so our intelligence said. The others that had helped capture this are have moved on, we believe. There are three routes up the mountain, so we're going to lead a three-pronged attack on them. My squad and I will take the middle route, accompanied by you, and half of the marines will take a side each. We hope to catch them by surprise" I looked up at him expectantly. He merely nodded. "Is that alright?" I asked. Despite the fact that I had been in the military for most of my life, and had managed to establish myself to become the leader of my own squad, I was still nervous of Jorge's opinion.

"It sounds like plan to me. Alright then, we'll head out when you say the word," Jorge said, saluting me. It felt strange to have _him_ salute _me_, like I was his superior or something. In my mind, he would always be the big man I'd met on my first day on Onyx.

"We'll be heading out in about twenty minutes," I said "I'll just make sure everyone's prepped first." I sent out a call sign to the rest of my team on the Heads-Up-Display. Three out of four green lights winked back at me, telling me that they were ready. This wasn't right.

"Logan?" I called to a man in dark red armour "What time was the last transmission from Becca and Chris?"

"About three hours ago," he replied, tapping a few keys on his field computer. "As a matter of fact, they were supposed to check in about now."

"Get me a Hog," I said, panic rising in my chest "I'm going to check on them myself. You want to tag along, Jorge?"

The ride to where Becca and Chris had made camp was a terse one. I was driving on auto-pilot, focusing on finding my team-mates.

"They could just be in a black zone," Jorge said "It's probably nothing."

"Yeah," I said, unable to ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was probably just paranoia, not "women's intuition" or anything like that. "Maybe. Well, there's no harm in being a little closer before the action starts, right?"

"I suppose it couldn't hurt," Jorge seemed satisfied.

"Gamma-Two and Gamma-Three, please respond," I said into the closed COM channel. There was still no response from Rebecca and Chris, no matter how many times I repeated my message. After what felt like a million miles of driving, we arrived at the place where they had stationed themselves. I could just barely make out the sheen off Rebecca's light purple armour in their camouflage. I rushed towards it, tearing the camouflage off her, and gasped in horror. Blood was trickling from a wound underneath her throat.

"His throat is slit as well," Jorge said sombrely, laying Chris back down.

"No…Those bastards" I said, giving my head a small shake in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Those Covenant bastards had killed two of my team members. Two of my best friends. Two of my _family_.

"Get it together, Lieutenant!" Jorge said, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

Suddenly, the COM channel came alive with noise.

"Rach, we have some serious problems back here!" Logan shouted "It's an ambush! Way more than we've been monitoring! Get Becca and Chris and give us a hand!"

"Becca and Chris are gone," I said. For whatever reason, those three letters K-I-A were too hard for my mouth to form. "Jorge and I will be right down."

I gave Jorge a solemn nod. I took in a deep breath, burying the grief deep within me, preserving it for later. Right now, I had to help the rest of my team. I could already hear the rest of the Covenant troops marching down the mountainside towards us.

"I'll drive," Jorge offered, seeing me in my dazed state. He turned his back, about to mount the Warthog, when suddenly I caught sight of a small purple cylinder come whizzing through the air. A grenade, plasma, headed straight at him. I would not let another person die while there was something I could do about it.

"MOVE!" I threw myself at Jorge, pushing him away from the destination of the grenade. It landed squarely on my chest, and I had half a moment to look at it before a blast sent me flying into the other side of consciousness.

Catherine Halsey was a scientist, and an old friend of Jorge's, but that was about all I knew about her. I had met her only once before, and from that I had got the impression that she didn't like me. I don't know why she would hate me, or what I could have done to make her hate me.

"Hello, Jorge," she said, smiling at him.

"Hello, ma'am," he replied.

Her smile faltered a little when she locked eyes with me. "Hello, Lieutenant" she eventually said.

"Hello, Doctor," I said, inclining my head respectfully.

"If you would lie down on the table," she said in clipped, clinical tones as she put on a pair of rubber gloves. Slowly and laboriously and with the help of the table, I got out of the wheelchair and sat down on the table. "And please remove your shirt."

Jorge and I exchanged embarrassed glances before he finally took the hint and, flushed and stammering, turned around with his hands over his eyes while I complied with the doctor's orders.

She was a good doctor, I would admit that. But there was something…Something, missing from her. I felt that I had to be mute around her, and only answer her in precise terms. I couldn't joke with her. I couldn't even talk about the weather with her. If I was quite honest, I was scared of her. I was glad when the appointment was over.

"You're going to have to rest for the next while. Your burns are serious, but you'll recover. I can schedule for a skin graft for you in the next few days, and then you'll have to spend another two or three weeks recovering."

Two or three weeks? Was this woman kidding? Three weeks, even two, was a very long time for a Spartan to be out of action.

The corners of her eyes lifted slightly. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I understand how painful it is for you…" she gave me another look up and down "…Spartans to be out of action. But you'll be fine. Do you have anyone to take sympathy leave for you?" Because Spartans have no families of our own to nurse us when we're recovering, we often have to take "sympathy leave" to take care of each other when the need arises. I was surprised that she even knew about sympathy leave.

"No," I said, my eyes studying the floor "I have nobody."

"Well, then I'm sure you'll be allowed recover here, on the Archangel" Dr Halsey said, pulling of her gloves.

"Ma'am, may I make a suggestion?" Jorge said "We have some spare room at Noble HQ, and I have some sympathy leave stocked up. We could keep her there until she's back on her feet again."

"What about your commander? Would he have a problem with this arrangement?" Dr Halsey asked. It felt odd to be lying on a table without your shirt and listen to yourself be discussed.

"I'm certain Noble One would have no problems with it," Jorge said. "I'll clear it with him when he returns from his mission with Noble Two."

"Well, I guess it's settled then" Dr Halsey said.

"Uh, doctor?" I said tentatively.

"Yes?" she replied, a trace of suspicion in her voice.

"Can you do anything about my hand?" I asked, showing her my right hand. It had been shaking since I had woken up, and it was making it impossible to do up the buttons of my shirt. The doctor helped me with the rest of my buttons, in an almost motherly way.

"Well, I'm afraid that it's a case of post-traumatic stress-disorder," she replied "There are no quick fixes. I could arrange for you to start some treatments here-"

"No," I said "No...It's fine. I'll be fine."

"If you're sure…" Dr Halsey said "Well, good luck, Lieutenant. Goodbye, Jorge."

"Will your Commander really mind?" I asked Jorge as he wheeled me back towards my room.

"Why don't we ask him now?" Jorge said, stopping the wheelchair to salute the MJOLNIR clad figure coming down the corridor.

"Jorge, there you are," Noble One said, removing his dark-blue helmet and returning the salute. Weakly, I tried to raise my right hand to salute him. I held my arm up as far as it would go, bent at the elbow with my fingertips brushing my forehead, like I had been taught at Basic, but far from steady like they told us. Chief Mendez had told us that people had been court martialled before for having an unsteady salute. My arm trembled violently, and try as I might, I couldn't stop the shaking. I felt white hot tears of humiliation burn behind my eyes.

_Pathetic…_

Noble One bent down so that we were almost level, his hand outstretched. "I'm Carter," he said "Nice to meet you." It was barely visible, but I could see the faintest tremor in his hand, almost like a twitch. I gasped with the realization.

"I'm Rachael," I said finally, "Rachael-B-Three-One-Two. It's nice to meet you, sir."

Jorge left me back in my room, where I was hooked back up to the million wires and tubes while being scolded by a sore-tempered nurse. Through the glass window at the front of the room, I saw Jorge and Noble One talking, occasionally looking in through at me. I heard a few snippets of their conversation.

"_Heard good things…A good soldier…"_

"…_Clumsy, but she's…"_

"…_Read her file, 'Project Sabre', I thought that was…"_

"_Look, Carter…Face facts…Can't keep this up… need a new Six…"_

"… _Don't know…Have to run it by Kat first…"_

"_Good…Might just be what Noble Team needs…"_

**/FIN/**

**-From the Notebook of an Angel-**

**Well, there's the first one. It's far, far too long, but that is the price one pays for establishing setting (very poorly) and what not. I will never be satisfied with this. Ever. I know people might have some issues with my character. I have taken some "creative licence" with the character of Noble Six because the only character description you seem to get is "lone wolf", and the rest you make up yourself.**

**Regards, **

**Ceres**

**xXx**


	2. 2:Grunt's BirthdayKat Logic

**-From the Notebook of an Angel-**

**Hello! **

**I had a lot of fun making up the different prompts for this series with my friends and my sister. This one "Grunt's Birthday", was suggested by my friend, Fionn. If anyone has any ideas for prompts, do send them along, and I would really appreciate them.**

**Enjoy!**

**In Noble Pursuit!**

**#2: Grunt's Birthday- "Kat Logic"**

Noble Six pointed her rifle at the Grunt's skull and squeezed the trigger. The Unngoy's head exploded in a shower of confetti and a cry of "YAY!"

"Hey, Kat," Six said, prodding the carcass with the tip of her gun "Why do Grunts explode when you shoot them in the head?"

Kat gave a frustrated sigh that Six mistook for a thoughtful one. Kat was starting to get pretty fed up with the newest member of Noble Team. She had yet to witness some of this soldier's "hyper-lethal" skills. All she had done so far was talk non-stop over the COM channels, to the point that Kat had started to miss Jun's dulcet tones in her ear.

"Well, you see, Six," Kat began "The Unngoy are a very proud warrior race, and value their ability to doge attacks to the head so highly that they have evolved that anyone who has the skill to hit them with a direct hit to their skull will be rewarded with confetti and congratulations."

Six blinked dumbly. Kat could almost hear the gears working in the lieutenant's tiny brain as she attempted to process the information.

"Really?"

"No, of course not really!" Kat snapped "Grunts are stupid creatures with little brain full of confetti! That's it! So if you're done with the stupid questions, let's get on with it!" She stomped away, leaving a dejected Six trailing behind.

"It was just a question…"

**/Fin/**


End file.
